Always By My Side
by thesolitary-dragon
Summary: Spinelli spends an insomniac's night, considering her friends and their flaws, and ultimately revealing her own insecurities. There's also a latenight phone call. This is a oneshot.


A/N: This is my first fanfic, it's a one-shot, introspective piece. The thoughts are a bit mature for a fifth graders (not in any bad, dirty ways), just that she seems a bit smarter than your average eleven/twelve year old. The way I word things, and stuff. As well as her understanding of things most children wouldn't even care too much about at that tender age. Or maybe they would. You be the judge. I talk too much, here's the fanfic. Enjoy.

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Always By My Side  
  
I stared up at the ceiling of my room frowning unpleasantly. My hair was undone, and dark strands were flung wildly about my face. Damn, I can't sleep, I thought. I rolled onto my belly, my eyes falling on my digital alarm clock. The glowing numbers read 2:27, I hadn't slept at all that night. I pulled myself out of bed, glancing in the full-length mirror by my bed. Stringy black hair, almond dark eyes, a smooth face, and the small-undeveloped body of a fifth grader stared back at me. I blinked several times, the small bags under my eyes evident. Ashley Spinelli, I thought with a bitter laugh, there's nothing special about you, really. Sure I could beat up any kid on the playground, I was the toughest kid in school. But that didn't matter anymore. When I was younger, it was important to be the strongest, so no one would pick on you. So you wouldn't get chewed up and spit out by the cruelties of the playground. But it was a lonely existence.  
  
Sure, I had friends. I wasn't a loser or a determined loner with a chip on my shoulder looking to prove something. I had a small group of friends and the respect, or at the very least, the fear of every kid on the playground. And yeah, my friends are great; we're always there for each other. But sometimes…sometimes I wonder. I was the strongest kid on the playground, and some of my friends really…well…they weren't. I wondered if maybe I was nothing more than an enforcer, a bodyguard for them. Like maybe…oh well. It doesn't matter. When you're the toughest kid in school, you're not supposed to have deeper feelings than the want of beating the snot out of the nearest kid.  
  
I bet none of my friends were lying awake wondering about what I thought of them, or even worried about who they were or what others thought of them, or even thinking of me. I was Spinelli; the tough one; nothing could shake me. I didn't need protecting; I was the protector. I stared blankly in the mirror, at my unruly hair, my scowling eyes, my frowning lips. Maybe there was something else in there, someone else. Struggling to escape. I forced my thoughts to that of my friends.  
  
Gus was the smallest of our group. I worried about him the most because he worried the most. He wanted to be strong and brave, and sure, he had all the heart he needed to do it. He was just, afraid of so much and while he was small, I certainly proved that size had nothing to do with it, being only a few inches taller then Gus himself. He was all about safety, and being precautious. You had to respect the guy for it, as well as his unwavering knowledge of the military and their armaments. He was an impressive kid and he had the watchful eye of every one of us in the group on him. But even though I cared about him and what happened to him, he was still afraid of me, and I guess he had good reason. I couldn't slip out of intimidation mode, even to ease his fears, not for a moment. I had a reputation to uphold.  
  
If I wasn't spending time worrying about whether Gus was getting bullied by some big and most likely repugnant and cowardly kid, I worried about Mikey, who was simply too nice for his own good. Most of our peers liked Mikey because of his adamant kindness. He never did anything without considering the feelings of those around him, and I wondered about that sometimes, how he could do it. I, on the other hand, couldn't care less how others besides my friends would feel about something. Is it my fault? I'd like to think not. My mindset is not that different from others in our school, Mikey was the one that was different, and I really admired him for it. No matter how baffling his behavior was. I was constantly on the lookout for those who would take advantage of my large friend, but I often wondered if he would do the same for me. Or maybe, even if it was on a subconscious level, he was the one taking advantage of me.  
  
Then, I guess there's Gretchen, the untouchable genius with no objections to sharing her knowledge with others. Even the Ashleys, with their indomitable and hateful clique, didn't mind Gretchen, despite her lack of fashion-sense. But I know that soon Gretchen would be subjected to the outside world, which had outgrown it's respect for those who could accomplish their homework and still have time to make a scientific breakthrough in one night, a world that wouldn't get past Gretchen's outward appearance, of a lanky pole, with large round glasses, buckteeth, flat reddish hair, and awkward modesty, to the intelligent young woman inside. She was safe in the confines of science, and I wanted to make sure she stayed safe in her deluded idea of what life was really like. But did she feel that way about me? Did she want to keep me from finding out that maybe I won't be the toughest kid in school forever? That I can't shield myself the rest of my life with the naive notion that my threatening wouldn't work on everyone I encountered? That one day, my mask would have to come down and that wall around my emotions would have to crumble?  
  
There's Vince, as well, who's undying ambition seems to be the one thing that casts a shadow of a doubt over my immense worrying for, yes, even him. He accomplishes everything he sets out for, always reaching the goal. He was always a winner and everyone loves a winner. And yet, I worry that he won't be able to escape the prejudices of the world that would unhesitatingly dub him as nothing more than a dumb jock. That had decided for him if he couldn't kick a ball farther than any other kid, or get 10 out of 10 free throws on the basketball court, or could hit the ol' baseball out of the ball field, he wouldn't be anything. There would be no soul, just a shell of a kid, with no thoughts, no ambitions, no dreams. It was a fact that one day, poor Vince, would come face to face with people who would never see past that sports star to the boy who could laugh harder than anyone at a joke told by one of his friends, that could watch the clouds with a poet, that had turned in every homework assignment given to him mildly corrected courtesy of his genius good friend, that he liked to cook as much as play sports, and that he was damned good at it too, that he worked hard at everything not just winning the big game, or that he was as loyal as any great friend you could get. I wanted to keep him from those people, but did he want to keep me safe from the prejudices that would most likely be directed at me? Did he want to protect me from the people who would see me as nothing more than a punk juvenile delinquent that would amount to nothing more than a welfare leech?  
  
Did any of them lie awake at night like I do thinking of me as I do about them? Does T.J.? T.J. that average boy that was the glue that held us all together. Could I possibly worry about him as well? I suppose it would be hard to spend the night worrying about the boy who always has a plan. And yet, I accomplish just that; me, who knows T.J. as a best friend since childhood. I spent my entire life following T.J. as the leader, the one who knew just what to do in any situation. He was the conman, the strategist, as well as the captain of our motley crew. While I worried most for Gus, I thought more of T.J. than anyone. He fascinated me since the moment our group had all met, excluding Gus of course who had come years later. T.J. had fascinated all of us. I guess we followed him, not just because he never let us down, but because we had to, just to see if he could pull off whatever scheme was in his mind at the time. He was more loyal than any of us to our friendship, and to the unwritten code of every kid. Everyone liked him, except of course for one boy, who, while most thought was completely out of his mind for not liking T.J., I thought was just a foreshadowing of what was to come. T.J. couldn't be liked by everyone forever, and much to my dismay, I knew he wouldn't be the boy with the plan forever either. I didn't want to see the day when T.J. found himself in a position he couldn't figure his way out of, but that day would come. When he would have to stand on his own, with no way out. I dreaded the day when I wouldn't be able to stand next to T.J. and pound into fleshy clay whatever difficult situation presented itself to T.J., and, as inevitable as that day was, I could almost fool myself into the false idea that it would never come.  
  
But did T.J. think that of me as well? Obviously there would be a day when I would find myself in a sticky situation that I couldn't beat my way out of. Did he fear that he wouldn't be there beside me to watch my back? Or did he, like so many others, think I was too tough to let anything touch me? Did he think when that day came, I wouldn't need him by my side? That I was void of feelings anyways, so whatever difficult situation the future would hold, would not affect me? Or when he thought of those things, did he even think of me?  
  
The phone by my bedside rang, shaking me from my musings. It wasn't until the second ring that I was fully aware of what was going on around me and raced to answer the phone before the third ring came; sealing the deal of waking my parents. "Who would be calling at this hour," I grumbled miserably, lifting the receiver to my ear. "Who is this and what's your problem, calling this late at night. You trying to wake someone up," I demanded of the person on the other end of the line, trying to keep my voice to a minimum, despite the rising rage. It took a moment before someone answered, and I even added after the long period of silence a tentative, "Hello?"  
  
"Hey, Spinelli, it's me," a whisper filled the phone. I knew at once who it was.  
  
"Why you calling, Teej? Have you any idea what time it is?" I replied, my voice still quavering with a small hint of remaining anger, but for the most part my rage had dispersed.  
  
"Yeah, I do. That's why I called. I saw your light was still on and was worried," T.J. replied, a bit sheepishly. I'd forgotten he lived next door to me and could almost see into my room from his own. "I guess it was stupid, though…huh?" He quickly added. I nearly laughed aloud at how the fact T.J. living next door to me was what registered and not the fact that he was worried about me, but I didn't laugh.  
  
"No. I'm glad you called," I replied, so quietly I hoped he hadn't heard. His shocked silence told me he had. We were both quiet awhile, pondering; our soft breathing the only sound between us.  
  
"Why are you still up?" T.J. finally asked in a small whisper, "I mean, we do have school tomorrow and all. Have to be alert for Finster, right?" I chuckled softly, brushing my hair from my face. I decided there was no harm in talking to T.J. about what had been going through my mind only moments before. I had, after all, always been able to tell him everything on my mind. I guess that was why he was my best friend, I always felt so comfortable around him.  
  
"I was just thinking about things," I mumbled, lying on my bed and curling the phone cord about my finger.  
  
"Well, it's always been my experience that whatever takes one kid a whole night to think about only takes two kids half the night. What's on your mind, Spin," T.J. said, and I couldn't help but grin at his logic. I felt kind of foolish, feeling the way I had about all my friends, at least about him.  
  
"We're fifth graders now, Teej," I whispered, a hint of sadness in my reply, "You know what that means?"  
  
"We're a year older, a year wiser, that's not what you're going for, though, is it? I don't know, you're going to have to spell it out for me, Spin," T.J. answered, and I could almost picture his confused face sitting in his room, wondering what I was talking about, but because of who he was listening as intently as ever.  
  
"We're gonna go through changes, that's what. Not just, growing up changes, but our group and friendships, they're gonna change," I answered, pulling myself up into a sitting position and glancing out my window to his, where I could just make out his silhouette, slumped over his phone base. His desk light was on, so I couldn't see much of his features, but I knew he was mulling over my statement.  
  
"I don't know what to tell you, Spinelli. Yeah, we are going to change, all of us. I can't guarantee we'll be friends forever, either. Maybe ten years from now we won't even remember one another. The way I see it, though, we can cross that bridge when we get there. But that's not what's eating you, is it, I can tell," T.J. seemed quieter now, self-assured, determined, and a bit concerned. I chewed my lower lip.  
  
"I guess I'm just afraid is all. Yeah…the toughest kid in school, Spinelli is afraid," I walked to the mirror again. Glancing at my reflection. T.J. didn't say anything; I suppose he was waiting for me to finish. "It's just, you guys all know that, no matter what, I'll watch your backs. Cream whatever jerk decides to pick on you guys, or help you in whatever situation arises."  
  
"Spinelli, we're getting in dangerous grounds here. Are you sure you want to keep going?" T.J. interrupted, "I mean, we're borderline mush here."  
  
"I know, Teej, I know. Maybe that's just one of the changes I'm going through. Beating the stuffing out of Mr. Monk Monk just doesn't sort out my emotions anymore," I explained, my voice nervously cracking.  
  
"Got it," T.J. responded, with his usual cheekiness masking the obvious uneasiness in his voice, "I can handle mush."  
  
"So, I've got your backs…I just…wonder…if you all have mine, that's all," I mumbled, poking at my reflection in the mirror. He was quiet, a bit too long for my comfort and I thought for a moment that maybe he fell asleep on the phone. Finally, he spoke up.  
  
"Look, Spinelli, I don't know about Gretchen, and Vince, and Mikey, and Gus, I just know about myself. No matter what happens, Spin, I'm always going to be there for you. Even if I'm not actually beside you, I'll be thinking about you. Hoping you're okay. Someone once told me, that you carry everyone you love with you everywhere you go. I don't know where or when, but somewhere along the lines a childhood friendship that's lasted as long as all of ours becomes something more than just friendship. As corny as this sounds, it becomes love. We may not say it often, if ever, but we do feel that way."  
  
"So, what're you trying to say, Teej? That you're always by my side?" I asked.  
  
"We all are, Spinelli," T.J. replied, "Because in some odd, kid way, we all love you."  
  
"I love all you guys, too," I said, with a slight smile and was that a blush I saw cross my cheeks in the mirror. I could see myself smiling; feel my doubts alleviated. "Thanks, Teej," I whispered, "I should've known, that at least you would be there for me."  
  
"No problem, Spinelli. And hey, I don't think I'm out of line in saying this, but you should know that we're all here for you," T.J. said. I nodded through my window, not knowing if he could see me, but not caring either. After everything we'd been through together, I shouldn't have had so many doubts. Time was just closing in on us; we weren't going to be kids for much longer. It was all right to be slightly self-conscious I guess. "Hey, Spin, get some sleep alright. 'Cause I'm dead tired and I can't sleep with your room's light blaring through my window."  
  
"Is it that bright, Teej?" I asked.  
  
"Only to a friend," was his silent reply. I walked over to the light switch and flicked it off.  
  
"I'll see you, tomorrow?" T.J. said.  
  
"Yeah," I replied, "And T.J."  
  
"What's up, Spin?"  
  
"If you tell anyone about this conversation, the next time we meet, you'll be talking to my fists," I threatened, though half-jokingly. The grin I knew he was wearing now seemed to radiate through the telephone.  
  
"Gotcha. My lips are sealed. Sweet dreams, Spinelli," T.J. said.  
  
"You too, Teej."

End

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A/N: I don't like this story that much. Please be nice and review...maybe give me some constructive criticism, or tell me about any typos or grammar errors. Maybe you guys can point out to me what it is about this story I don't like. Thanks. 


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